mouth-" you are aware that I feel a deep interest in you. Considering the unpropitious eye which parents are apt to cast upon all suitors but the wealthy, a rashly advised interest; nay, I have even ventured to be dissatisfied with your attentions to others, though I know that it was not in your power to bestow them elsewhere, whatever your inclinations might have been. I have been rash-I have been wrong; but the faults which arise from affection are surely the easiest to forgive." 66 Forgive forgive them then," exclaimed Carl, completely thrown off his guard by the pathetic earnestness with which she pleaded for him. “Rosalie, on my knees I acknowledge that you have penetrated the wretched secret of my heart. I acknowledge the fault which has ensued from it. You have spoken for me the words which I dared not speak for myself." "I will do more," she replied "I will answer. My conduct has been in obedience to commands which I could not dispute. I have laboured till my heart sickened to avert the consequences which that obedience has brought upon me; and I have determined that my parents shall not have to repent the misdeed of making me the victim of evil arrangements. You see me as I am, a wild, vain girl, with but little wit and less prudence; but still I feel that I have a heart, and courage to undertake wonders for those who are dear to it." Her breath was drawn with increasing difficulty, and she concluded with a gush of tears. "A courage that only shrinks from the contemplation that I am betraying the feelings of my soul to one who has no wish to profit by them." Her lover knelt in silent bewilderment. He was a new creation. He was a man snatched up from the grave. The next morning Mac in vain called under his mistress's window "ou ettez vous ;" and vainly did madame seek to lament to Carl her expectation of company who would require the use of his apartment. The little anonymous bird, having finished his flying lessons, had been dismissed to his native freedom, and not a brush nor a scrap of canvass was to be found from garret to cellar. It was clear that Rosalie and Carl had gone to take views; and as it was presently found that the carriage and horses were also missing, it was suspected that these views were somewhat distant. In the course of a few hours the equipage returned; and, to set at rest all useless surmise, a letter was produced from Madame Carl. This little document was, as might be expected, a model for all compositions of the kind. It began with such touching entreaties for pardon, and ended with such affectionate compliments to Meester Mac, that the whole party were in a puzzle what to do. But five minutes before monsieur had absolutely torn his wig to pieces for rage; madame had burnt the memory of her daughter upon a funeral pile, composed of all her lover's sketches; and Mac had been seriously lamenting that he had never learnt the sword exercise. In five minutes afterwards all was revolutionized madame's clouds went off, à la Françoise, in showers; monsieur wiped the snuff drop from his nose; and Mac magnanimously declared, “Je allez à cheval après lui pour pardonnez." Very little remains to be told. Carl was very shortly again seen sketching in the environs of the old chateau ; while his happy wife, considerably more steady, and not a whit less delightful, reclined by his side, and amused herself with improving the French of honest Mac. The art which he thought had jilted him returned in greater strength than ever; whilst, with a laudable anxiety for his improvement, Rosalie supplied him with little landscape figures as fast as he could paint them. There was only one stumbling-block in the way of his celebrity, and that was he never again found his pockets empty. A HIGHLAND GROUP. BY WILLIAM HOWITT. I. THE glens of Aberfoyle were fair Whose viewless hand seems everywhere, Had strewn them with delight: Now, they are full of life and joy II. Its old kirk-yard I wandered by, And in it noted well Two plane trees, 'twixt whose branches high Is hung the single bell Whose lonely tongue has called for years From their far homes the mountaineers. III. I passed the school; from moor and hill The gathering children came; The highland lads with voices shrill Were eager at their game: How sweet, in such secluded places, Seem childhood's sports and happy faces! IV. But on the brink of Aven Dhu A lovelier sight was seen ; Glad girls in kirtles of bright blue, Their locks of golden sheen, With clapping hands, and playful scream, Were dipping in the sunny stream. V. And ever as their souls of mirth, She must be like that child: I would that every hour and scene VI. But soon where I unmarked had stood That fairy's glance was cast,— And through the merry multitude A sudden silence passed,— A blush, a titter, and anon A peal of laughter, they were gone! |